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By: ZschueruvwinRT

In a sunny for all, cold for one,
Began the pilgrimage of a Man.
Someone who's called the Solitary one
Penetrated gloom itself without a plan.

He smiles a lot and is utterly witty
Yet eccentric for the clouds' eyes
First kiss of condemnation was mighty
Yet he bashed it, never thawed like ice

Days passed and his pain is brimming
But with faith to the One, he proceeded
With the hope of finding his goal gleaming
"No man is an Island" neither was exceeded

Alone in the valley of lonesome illness
He groped and found no one but his Fortress
Resembling to his arrival of bluish forlornness
At the threshold, he glanced back thrice at stress

He said, "I thought I was wrong"
Well, He indeed was in the end.
For he's now happy in his heavenly song
Being found by Him who will soon descend